Liberty And Justice For All
by eleanoralovesananias
Summary: Most of the countries don't really think about the American Civil War. Civil wars are painful and confusing for a personification, but pretty much everyone has had one, and eventually you get over it. What no one realizes is that America is far from "over it". Lithuania x America, disturbing scenes, violence.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The Confederate States of America stood in the warm Southern sun, smiling. His short, neat blond hair whipped around in the breeze. His green eyes sparkled, not hidden behind glasses like that idiot Union's were. He wore a gray military uniform.  
The Confederacy looked down at his uniform and sighed. He wished that his first experience of life as a nation didn't have to be war. But that was the way things had to be. The Union was tearing his well-ordered world apart. After all, weren't the slaves __happy__ where they were? They were well treated!

The United States of America stood on the hill, staking out his brother's base. For once, no grin split his face, no cry of "I'm the Hero!" split the air. But there was a split. Half of him had just split away, and he had to get it back. His blue eyes were serious, a sight England would have loved to see. But he was serious for a reason. Without the resources, land, people and culture rich in the Confederacy, he would die, and soon.  
The Union caught sight of the slight glow of a nation among the thousands of gray-coated soldiers on the hill. He aimed his gun. America fired.

Gunshots rang out. Bullets sprayed the ground around him, barely missing his head. The brand-new nation dove to the ground. He lifted up his head just enough to see the blue-coated group far in the distance. He cursed. What the hell were that idiot Union and his soldiers __doing__ here? How had they even discovered the base?!  
Another shot rang out. The Confederacy rolled to the left, just in time to avoid a bullet that dug into the ground exactly where he had lain. The new nation swore again. __Damn, he's a good shot.__  
At that moment, each and every blue-coated soldier dropped to their knees and started firing.  
For hours, the siege raged on. The Confederates refused to back down, and the Union soldiers just kept on killing.  
At last, the Confederacy could take it no longer. He pulled out his neat white handkerchief and tied it to a stick. The new nation reluctantly raised the surrender flag high.

On the hill, America smiled.

America and the Confederacy faced each other. The smile was gone from America's face. He was pointing a gun at the other man.

There wasn't a single flaw in the Confederacy's calm expression. But deep inside, he was terrified. __I don't want to die, I don't want to die__, he implored. He began saying the Lord's Prayer in his head.

The Union fired.

The Confederacy vanished.

America gasped as the new country vanished into glowing green smoke. The spirit-like apparition rose and formed into a giant, glowing green serpent. Suddenly, it rushed down and collided with the superpower. America took a breath - and choked as the spirit of the Confederacy came rushing in. He coughed and choked and fought, but the spirit was too strong. He felt it becoming one with him.

America blacked out.


	2. Slavery

Slavery

America screamed.

He heard footsteps pounding toward his room, and the door opened. "Are you okay?" asked Lithuania concernedly, staring at the superpower.

America stared at him for a second, then shook himself. "Yeah... yeah, sorry, dude. It was just a dream."

Lithuania gave him that look. The look he always used when he knew America was hiding something. America hated that look. "I'm _fine_, dude. Get out so I can get dressed." Lithuania gave him one last glance and left.

America dressed slowly, his hands shaking. It had been a long time since he had dreamed about that day. The nation closed his eyes, remembering.

When he had woken up after the attack, nothing was ever the same. The Confederacy had been returned to America, but not entirely meshed back into the rest of the country's culture, not even after Reconstruction. Inside America's body, the Confederacy's spirit was still alive and well. For decades since that day, every day had been a struggle not to let the Confederacy take control. Only a few times had his brother's spirit won, and he didn't like to think about those times. If the Confederacy ever got control for good... America shuddered.

* * *  
Meanwhile, the Confederacy listened to his brother's thoughts. He wanted to scowl, but of course at the moment, he had no control over the body that both men shared. He _hated_ being linked to the Union this way. There was nowhere he could go, no place in his mind that was safe from his brother. For better of for worse, they were inexorably chained together.

The Confederacy began to struggle.

* * *  
America gasped as his brother began to fight him. The mind of the other nation pushed against his, trying to occupy his soul's space. Trying to control his body. The superpower convulsed in agony as pain surged through him. Only his iron will had kept the Confederacy chained for this long. This surprise attack was breaking him down.

America fought against the mental power that was crushing him, crushing his individual mind. He began to jerk as the Confederacy gained the upper hand and started to move - physically. He was losing. America fell to the floor, grappling inside with the spirit that threatened to possess him. _Lithuania_, he thought suddenly. In his agonized delirium, he screamed out for his friend.

And at that moment, the Confederacy won.

America's eyes snapped open - they were bright green. He sat up and began to experimentally move his fingers. They worked, and he tried standing up. It had been a long time since he'd physically moved, and so it took a few tries, but within maybe thirty seconds, he was walking normally. Muscle memory was a big help.

* * *  
Lithuania heard America scream and gasped. He dropped everything and ran to his friend's room, his heart pounding in his ears. The small nation skidded to a stop and threw open the door. "What -"

He stopped. America was walking in circles around his room. Calm, normal. Strike that. With America, calm wasn't normal. America was never calm. And this mysteriously calm America was not the America who had screamed his name in obvious pain and fear. What was going on?

America turned and noticed him. He smiled. "Hello," he said coolly. "Lithuania, isn't it?"  
Lithuania backed up a step. This was not good. America had said _hello_... and not known who he was... and not said dude... and his eyes were green. "Are you okay?" he stammered. The way this not-America was looking at him seriously reminded him of Russia. This was wrong. America should _never_ remind him of Russia. Russia was his worst nightmare. America was his secret boyfriend.

Lithuania took a deep breath, reminded himself this was not Russia, and looked the not-America directly in the eye. "Who are you?" he asked frankly. "You're not America. You're definitely not Canada. Why are you here, and why did America scream for help just before you appeared?" A chill went up his spine as a thought came to him. "You're not 2P America, are you?"

The stranger laughed. "No, I ain't. You're a smart one." He looked the smaller nation up and down judgmentally, as if examining a piece of meat. _Just like Russia._ Lithuania supressed a shiver. "And weak, too, by the looks of it. I suppose I can tell you, since you won't be able to stand up to me." He grinned. "One of the perks about being one with my brother is that I have his strength."

Lithuania's heart beat faster. _His brother? He never told me he had a brother... except Canada... and this isn't Canada. He kept a secret from me! We promised no secrets..._ Then he once again forced himself to look not-America in the eye and ask, "Who are you then?"

He scowled and grabbed the Baltic country by the front of his shirt. He lifted him up to eye level and growled, "I'm the Confederate States of America. I know my brother talked about me to you. What he didn't tell you is that he didn't kill me, he only killed my body. Now my soul is inside him, enslaved, forced to bear witness to his entire life." The Confederacy's lip curled. "Now die." And his fingernails punctured Lithuania's skin.


	3. Fear

Fear

Lithuania twisted and struggled, desperate to escape. Blood trickled down his pale skin. By pure luck, the Baltic nation managed to free his left hand. He pressed two fingers against a vein in the Confederacy's neck - _America's neck_ \- and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Lithuania leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, hands shaking, breathing hard with adrenaline and relief. "Aciu Dievui," he whispered, and then came the automatic reaction of fear and guilt that had been drilled into him by Russia whenever he used his own language.

America felt strange. Like he was floating... stars all around him... was this what it was like to be trapped inside another's body, helpless, crushed under the weight of another mind? He almost felt sorry for the Confederacy.  
Listening to his brother's thoughts was like experiencing the world through a kaleidoscope. Sounds, smells, feelings, images - all were blurred and interspersed with strange patterns signifying a thought on the Confederacy's part. He tried to take a calming breath, then realized he couldn't breathe. He didn't need to - he was nothing but an insubstantial spirit floating in the ether.

Then he heard Lithuania screaming as if from far away, saw the awful images appearing in his brother's mind. _No!_ he wanted to scream, but he had no mouth. He wanted to close his eyes, not to see, but he had no eyes to close. It was the most awful experience of his life, and all he could think was, _Lithuania!_

Then he saw Lithuania's hand pulling free - _Yes. Yes!_ \- then felt the Confederacy's mind slipping, falling, settling back down in the depths. With a rush of triumph, he slipped free and returned to his rightful place, careful not to wake his brother. _Sweet dreams, sucker_.


	4. I'm Sorry

I'm Sorry

Lithuania jerked. America was stirring. The nation went on alert. Would it be the real America, or his psychotic twin brother? The Baltic country relaxed when he heard the familiar moan of "Duuuude..."  
Lithuania knelt down and helped his boyfriend up. The guilty puppy-dog look on America's face made him want to hug the younger nation and forgive him for everything, but it wasn't that simple. America had broken his promise, and nearly gotten him killed in the process. The smaller nation fixed the superpower with a stern look that made America shift guiltily and said, "You broke your promise."

America suddenly found his sneakers very interesting.  
"You broke your promise," Lithuania repeated, hurt creeping into his voice despite his best efforts. "You let him hurt me without _one_ thought for me."  
"I did not let him!" America protested. "I couldn't do anything!" Lithuania stared at him coldly until the superpower subsided. "You didn't tell me about the danger," Lithuania replied, his tone icy. "That's the same thing."

America started to cry, tears silently falling from his cheeks. "I just... I..."

"Go on," Lithuania pressed, still furious. "Why didn't you tell me?"

America's head snapped up. "I was afraid, OK? Happy?" he snapped, then added angrily, "Like _you've_ never been afraid."

Lithuania was about to forgive him, knowing how hard it was for the American to admit fear, when he heard the final comment. His fists clenched. A vein pulsed in his temple, America saw that he had gone too far, but had no chance to apologize before his boyfriend snapped.

"Užsičiaupk! Jūs neturite idėjos, ką reiškia! Kvaily, kaip išdrįstų pasakyti, kad kaip tai nieko! Jūs nežinote, ką reiškia, gyventi baimėje visą savo gyvenimą, niekada nežinote, kada jis ketina greitai, niekada nežinote, kas gali jums nužudyti! Kaip išdrįstų jums! Kaip jūs kada nors žinomas baimės, nors patyrę skausmą! Jūs esate purvinas pavainikis ir jūs niekada nerūpėjo man, aš matau jį dabar! Nekenčiu tavęs!"

_Translation: Shut up! You have no idea what it's like! You idiot, how dare you say that like it's nothing! You don't know what it's like, to live in fear your whole life, to never know when he's going to snap, never know what might get you killed! How dare you! Like you've ever known fear, ever experienced pain! You're a filthy b*stard and you've never cared about me, I see it now! I hate you!"_

America backed away, hands up in surrender, hoping Lithuania wouldn't hit him. He was almost like Russia when he was angry - not that America would ever say that aloud. It was a wonder he managed to control his temper while in Russia's house.

America took a deep breath and waited for Lithuania to finish. When the Baltic nation's anger was vented, he looked down and answered, "You're right. I'm sorry, that was wrong. You know how hard it is for me to admit that I'm afraid."

Lithuania took a deep breath, and, regretting his outburst, forgave him. Then it was time for the World Meeting.

And deep inside America, the Confederacy was already beginning to hatch his plan.


	5. Revealed

Revealed

It was unfair. Just unfair. The Union had no right to subject him to this constant torture, no right to call himself _America_ like he was the more important of the brothers! _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!_ the Confederacy thought with all his might. _You bastard! I hate you!_ He wanted to cry._You took everything I had! You took my world, you took my life, you took my home, you took my BODY, for God's sake! What more do you want? I just want my life back!_

America listened to his brother's thoughts with something almost resembling sympathy. Despite their hatred for each other, the brothers were literally close; for centuries, they had been privy to each other's every thought and emotion. Feeling the waves of fear and anger that coursed through the Confederacy now, he could almost forgive him for what he had done to Lithy. Almost.

Lithuania turned to him with a questioning look as they paused outside the meeting room door. (The sounds of yelling were already audible from inside.) America nodded. "I'm okay," he mouthed. After a brief kiss, they entered.

* * *  
Russia turned as the meeting room door opened, but scowled as he saw the American enter side by side with his beautiful little Liet. That filth was ruining his little angel. Oh, well, at least they weren't _holding hands_ like the _last_ time. He had nearly beaten Amerika to death right then and there.  
The Russian turned away and totally, coldly ignored the superpower. He tried reaching for Liet's hand, and was slightly hurt when the small nation quickly drew away. After that he simply ignored both of them.

Which is why he didn't see what happened next.

Inside America, the Confederacy was ready to start Phase 1 of Operation Freedom. During his assault on Lithuania, the Southerner had figured out how to send awful sensations through the not-so-metaphorical umbilical cord tying him to his brother, forcing the Union to physically feel anything he chose. _Phase 1, Operation Freedom_, he thought.

The Union barely had time to stiffen before he suddenly felt like his entire body was on fire. He screamed, interrupting England in the middle of a lecture about grammar, and fell to his knees, unable to stay upright. The pain, the agony, the feeling of the flames licking at him, searing the skin and flesh, cutting down to the bone! He screamed again, and this time it sounded like a prayer.

* * *  
England stared in surprise and more than a little concern at America. The superpower had been acting normally, when suddenly he had screamed out as if he had been shot. The Brit didn't know what to do.

Russia turned around to see America on the ground screaming in agony. His delight soured when Liet tried to help him.

Lithuania didn't know what to do. It was clear that the Confederacy was responsible for this, but how could he protect America from something that was happening in his own mind? His concern turned to fear when his friend stopped screaming and opened his eyes. They were green.

The Confederacy stood up and surveyed the confusion of the other little countries. He hadn't met any of them except while trapped in his brother's body... well, besides Lithuania, of course. He half smiled at the memory, and felt the Union squirm in horror inside him. _You think this is bad, brother? Wait until I'm done. Then you'll know true slavery._

The Confederacy smiled graciously, putting his Southern charm to work. "Hello. Which one of you is Russia?"

Lithuania fainted on the spot.


	6. Alliance

Alliance

Russia stared at Amerika, trying to place the difference. There was something wrong, that much was clear. Actually, another thing was also clear: Liet knew what it was. The nation wished Liet were awake. For such a little nation, he had taught the larger one so much. He was wise... and perfect.

Slowly, Russia walked towards the strange Amerika. "I'm Russia," he answered coldly. "Don't you recognize me, American trash?" Amerika studied him, and he noticed that the superpower's eyes were green. Odd.

The American smiled. But it wasn't his usual manic grin - it was calmer, more gracious, and at the same time more cruel. "Nice to meet you, sir," he replied, holding out his hand for a shake. "I'm the Confederate States of America."

Everyone stared at him in confusion. "I zhought you were zhe United States of America?" asked Germany. "And why are you acting zhtrangely?"

Th Confederacy's fists clenched. He slowly turned on his heel, meeting the German's eye with forthright hatred. "The _United_ States of America is my brother," he answered through clenched teeth, his voice dripping with barely concealed disdain. "He enslaved me inside his own body and kept me imprisoned, unable to move, for nearly 150 years." Then he choked and spasmed. "Shut _up_, Union!" he hissed, as if to himself.

England frowned, narrowing his eyes, trying to place where he had heard that name before. Confederate. Confederate... oh! England whirled around to face the stranger. "Confederate, as in the Confederates from the American Civil War?"

The Confederacy smiled. "That's me, sir. Separate, individual, and _free_ of the Union." He spat out the word "union" as if it were the worst insult he could think of. "And I must thank you for all your help during my war for independence. Of course you didn't know I existed, but the fact remains that I owe a great deal to you." England opened his mouth, then closed it again. _I helped create this. _

"So," he added abruptly, whirling back around to face Russia, "I want to ally with my brother's worst enemies. What do you say? Together we could be powerful."

Russia started. Every country in the room looked horrified and crossed their fingers, closed their eyes and _prayed_ with all their hearts that Russia would say no. But that was not to be.

Russia signature smile crept across his face. "So," he said. "You want to become one with Mother Russia, da?"


	7. Brother

Brother

Canada shrank back from Russia. He slipped off of his chair and curled up on the floor. If the larger nation sat on him again he was going to go 'hockey maniac'.

Canada's mind was whirling, trying to take in what had just happened. He had an...odd...relationship with his brother. America infuriated, flabbergasted, and babied him, and more than once Canada had found himself standing above his sleeping brother, ready to bash out his brains with a hockey stick. Yet they were twins, and Canada knew better than anyone that America had a good heart.

He also knew that this Confederacy, wherever he had come from, was trouble. Looking at those green eyes, the swift and relaxed way he moved, the gracious smile, Canada sensed that there was nothing but darkness behind the sparkle in his eyes. The shy nation sympathized with him; God knew America had virtually enslaved both of them. But it was clear that the Confederacy was blinded by anger. Alfred could be selfish, possessive and obtuse, but he was at heart a good person.

Wasn't he?


	8. Loneliness

England slowly approached the man who was possessing his little brother, his eyes wary as if coming up to a lion. The Confederacy was reading through America's work files, familiarizing himself with their contents. America's glasses were clipped neatly to his shirt collar; he didn't seem to need them. Without looking up, he greeted the Brit cordially. "Good afternoon, Arthur." The use of his human name made England jump.

He swallowed. "Hello, um... what exactly should I call you?"

The Confederacy smiled, still not looking up. "America is fine."

England blinked. "You want me to call _you _America?" As soon as he said it, he realized how rude that sounded. Normally he wouldn't care, but something about his little brother's other personality made him distinctly uncomfortable. "I-I'm sorry, that came out wrong."

"It's perfectly all right." There was an undercurrent of resentment to the man's words, but it was tightly controlled. "I understand that addressing me by the same name as my brother would make you uncomfortable." There was a pause. "May I ask you a personal question?"

England stared into the Confederacy's green eyes - the same color as his own, he realized. They were as intense as America's and held none of the light. Almost involuntarily, held under the spell of those eyes, he replied, "Go ahead."

"What was my brother like as child?" There was hunger in his voice. "I mean... what was it like raising him?"

England closed his eyes. "He was always happy. Even when he was crying, there was light in his eyes. He was strong, but he was never greedy. I was always greedy and proud... but he didn't seem to care about anything but the color of the sky and whether the tide was in. I wish..."

At that moment he remembered that America could hear him right now.

Before the Brit's face could explode from blushing so hard, the Confederacy said, "I didn't have a childhood."

Startled out of his panic, England asked in surprise, "What?"

The man glanced up. "I was born the same age as my brother was at the time, meaning I was never a child. My boss kept me in relative isolation, meaning that I never interacted with another nation. I saw you from a distance once or twice... I could feel this, this _connection_. There's this feeling when you're around another nation, you know? Like you're suddenly complete." England could see the Confederacy's fingers clench on the file. "It's a good feeling. I never got that feeling, never. I want more of it. More, more, _more. _I want to feel that _every _minute of _every _day. I want to _live, _England." His eyes were wild.

England quickly nodded and inched backwards. "I understand completely." He glanced towards the door.

"Am I insane, England?" The young man rested both palms on his desk and hung his head. "I can't tell anymore." He looked up. "Your son cares about you," he said blankly. England tried to think of a response, but the Confederacy turned his back and busied himself with the file, and it became clear that the conversation was over.


	9. Battle

From deep inside his own body, America could hear the Confederacy and England talking. He listened, feeling confused and slightly angry. England never talked to him like that. How was it that his older brother was more open with this freak he hadn't known for a day than with his own flesh and blood?

_Shut up_, the Confederacy snapped. _I'm no freak, and you get enough attention. Maybe he just likes me better. Lord knows I'm more mature._

That stung. It was true. His brother was more polite, more sophisticated, smarter: just the kind of perfect child England would have wanted. He might be better at running a country, too. The Confederacy would probably know exactly what to do in situations that left America practically in tears. His own people might like his brother better.

_Now you're getting it,_ the Confederacy thought smugly at him.

Meanwhile, Canada peered around the corner at his twin's alternate self, who appeared to be having an intense conversation with himself. Judging by his facial expressions, he was making fun of America. Something bold in Canada tingled with anger at this.

The shy nation walked up to the Confederacy and slowly reached out to tap him on the shoulder.

He turned around, and Canada's hand connected with his face.

Two sets of eyes widened in shock. The Canadian started to apologize, but it was too late. The Confederacy's green eyes glittered in rage. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Hitting me isn't going to bring your filthy brother back."

Canada backed away, green eyes boring into him. "I-I'm so sorry! I d-didn't m-mean to -" He flew across the room and crashed into the opposite wall with the force of the Confederacy's punch. The Canadian gasped, blood trickling down his face. The Confederacy strode across the room and picked him up by the front of his shirt. "Now you'll learn not to mess with me," he growled. Canada raised his hands to shield himself, terror written across his pale face.

Suddenly the Confederacy convulsed. He doubled over, dropping Canada. "Shut up!" he snarled to himself. "I don't care! Be quiet and stop struggling!" He yelled in pain. "Oh, you will regret that, Union."

America's head snapped up, and his eyes flickered blue. "Run, Mattie," he gasped. "I can't hold him off much longer."

Canada scrambled to his feet and ran, his feet pounding almost as fast as his heart. Not looking where he was going, he crashed headlong into Russia. The tall country blinked down at him. "Matvey? What's wrong?" Canada gasped. _Russia's allied with him_. He tried to get around the wintry nation, but a big hand reached out and caught him. "Matvey, is there something wrong? I can help, da?" Panicked, the smaller nation struggled in Russia's grasp.

Just then, the Confederacy rounded the corner, fury written on every feature. "I'll kill you!" he screamed, insanity in his green eyes. Canada shrieked in fear and kicked his legs futilely as Russia looked back and forth between the two. Slowly realization dawned on his face. His fists clenched, nearly crushing the Canadian's windpipe. "You don't hurt Matvey," the Russian growled angrily. His purple aura flared, and he dropped Canada...

...to reach for his pipe.

The Confederacy saw this and...

pulled out America's gun.

The two insane nations faced off, each with a weapon in his hand. Their eyes met and burned. The temperature dropped ten degrees. Down the street, England shivered on his way home. Deep inside his body, America struggled to no avail. This wasn't how he wanted it to end. This wasn't how he ever wanted it to end.


	10. Love

_Previously:_

_"I'll kill you!" he screamed, insanity in his green eyes. Canada shrieked in fear and kicked his legs futilely as Russia looked back and forth between the two. Slowly realization dawned on his face. His fists clenched, nearly crushing the Canadian's windpipe. "You don't hurt Matvey," the Russian growled angrily. His purple aura flared, and he dropped Canada..._

_...to reach for his pipe._

_The Confederacy saw this and..._

_pulled out America's gun._

_The two insane nations faced off, each with a weapon in his hand. Their eyes met and burned. The temperature dropped ten degrees. In London, England shivered in his sleep. Deep inside his body, America struggled to no avail. This wasn't how he wanted it to end. This wasn't how he ever wanted it to end._

Canada screamed again as blood splattered the walls, as the two nations fought their titanic battle.

Lithuania, who had just woken up, stared in horror, his own screams caught in his throat, his limbs frozen. _What the heck did I miss?_

Russia struggled to keep fighting. He needed to protect Matvey, but his limbs felt as heavy as his lead pipe, and his pipe felt as yielding as a living limb. Blood poured from a wound on his scalp where the American had actually split his skull, matting his hair and making him dizzy. Amerika never seemed to tire. Finally the huge nation stumbled against the wall, dropping his weapon with a _clang_. He faintly felt the much stronger man wrap his hands around his throat. The world spun as he weakly tried to pry the crushing force from his neck. As his sight faded to grey, he met those glowing green eyes. A tear found its way down his cheek.

The Confederacy stared into the Russian's dimming violet eyes. That single tear looked like a crystal. What was this flutter in his heart? What trick was the Union pulling now? He glanced at the two nations on the ground and saw that they feared him. He realized suddenly that he didn't like being feared. Was it better to be loved? He reached inside himself and searched his brother's consciousness. He cared about these people, all of them, even Russia. That was a good feeling, to care about someone.

Slowly the Confederacy unwrapped his hands from Russia's throat, confusion in his green eyes. How did the Union do this? How did one become loved?

_Let me teach you, _America thought. _Let me help you. Let me love you. I love you. I love you, Confederacy. You're my little brother, and I love you. I'm sorry I hurt you. Let me make it better._

The Southerner stared down at himself, at the blood on his shirt. _How?_

_Go to sleep,_ came his brother's gentle reply. _Let me fix everything._

Sleep sounded wonderful. He closed his green eyes and fell backwards, into darkness. Into the warm arms of his big brother.


	11. Healing

America's blue eyes flickered open. He took in the concerned faces standing over him, not quite recognizing them. The superpower blinked. "Where... am I?"

"Oh, thank God," breathed England. "You've been out for days. We thought you were gone forever."

Canada hugged him. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

Lithuania started to cry.

Russia shifted awkwardly, trying not to look worried about the American.

America tried to sit up, only to collapse back onto the pillow. "Why do I feel so tired?" he asked, bewildered. He tried to remember what had happened. "Was I drunk? Did I do something stupid?" He looked from face to face. Green eyes, violet eyes and brown eyes met blue ones. Everyone looked worried.

"Do you really not remember?" Canada asked. "You saved my life."

"And mine as well, da?" Russia added. "At least I believe so. You are perhaps not as stupid as I first thought, Amerika."

America blinked. "I saved your life?" He tried to remember. Flashes of memory came back to him; sounds, smells, impressions, intense green eyes. Green...

The American bolted upright, all sleepiness gone. "What happened?! What did he do to you?! Was anybody hurt?! Did he hurt you?! Are you all OK?!"

It took at least five minutes to calm the superpower down and explain to him what had happened. His memory seeped back as they told him. He flushed as he remembered his promise to his brother. Looking down at himself, he gingerly felt around for the Confederacy's consciousness, careful not to wake him. His brother's mind was curled up like a kitten, deep inside him. He opened his eyes, blue and serious, and looked at England. "Will you do something for me?"


	12. Freedom

England looked up from his spell book to ask America, yet again, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

The American, standing nervously in the middle of the summoning circle, smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure. I mean, I'm scared you're going to kill me or send me back in time or turn me into a girl... again... but yeah, I'm sure. As long as he's inside me, he's a threat to everyone. This way we can help him. Besides," the superpower added quietly, "I owe it to him."

England disagreed, but didn't argue. It was, after all, America's decision. But he couldn't help warning his son, again, "You do know this could tear your soul in two and leave your body comatose and your spirit wandering the void as a hungry ghost."

America smiled again, a little tightly. "I'll be _fine, _Iggy."

The older nation closed his eyes and took a breath, worried. "All right."

_"Mundum moveo incantus mittere._

_Spiritus unus duo agere._

_Libertatis pro fratis,_

_Essete!"_

The summoning circle went up in deep blue-and-green flames. From the corner of the room, Canada screamed, Lithuania gasped, and Russia moved backwards. England stared despairingly into the fire. "There's nothing we can do now," he said quietly. "We just wait and hope."

They could hear America screaming from inside the inferno. The blue-and-green storm began to spin, faster and faster, still trapped inside the summoning circle. Blue and green began to peel back from one another, forming two separate fires, burning with the sound of two separate screams, one lower-pitched than the other. The flames began to swirl and recede, leaving, finally, two people.

The Confederacy, slightly shorter and paler than his brother, wearing an old grey military uniform, lay unconscious with his head in America's lap. The taller, blue-eyed American slept with his arms wrapped around the other, holding him tight.


End file.
